It’s been a happy couple of weeks in the Bowl household. We’re as susceptible to worries and stress and anxieties as the next people (okay, probably more), but in the worst of it we’ll still look at each other, tucked under a gigantically fluffy comforter in the soft weeknight darkness, and say, but you know … we have it so good. It’s so tempting to forget, but we do. Family, friends, good food, each other. These past few weeks have seen a couple snags — a nasty stomach bug, lingering springtime sniffles — but they’ve been packed with so many happy things that we’ve barely noticed. B2 gave me the biggest surprise of my life when he flew my brother in to visit for the weekend (I was so shocked, guys, I opened the door and didn’t recognize my little bro for like ten seconds) and we’ve been seeing our fair share of his side of the family too, cousins with gleeful toddlers and gummy-smile’d babies, aunts and uncles in town for Easter, brunches and laugh-filled dinners galore. I love it. I’m the sappiest, but family always makes me so happy.

I have a chocolate chip snacking problem. It’s those cheap, sweet ones that get me, the bags that always end up on sale at the grocery store, where I buy like four bags (because, sale) and then I end up getting home from work each day and standing at the refrigerator with the door open for a good 10 minutes, just munching. Sometimes I try to save myself (and them) by mixing them in with the good stuff, the 60%-and-up cacao content types that are a tad too pricey for me to go stealing them from their baked good destinations, and then all that happens is that I stand at the fridge for even longer fishing out the little cheap ones from all the rest.

That’s weird. In my mind, it’s still barely 2014, we still just got engaged, I’m still just a few months in to this new job and I’m still less than a year in to this world of food and food blogs. But in reality, it’s just a few more sleeps until a brand-new year. A year when we’ll get married. What.

Anyway, even if my brain is in denial, my hands made you this little cake and put together a few snaps from 2014 to commemorate our last trip around the sun! There are plenty of grainy iPhone gems thrown in, and a few shots from our engagement shoot (!) and our trip to Hawaii in September that I meant to share earlier. As for the cake, it’s a moist, rich (but vegan!) chocolate cake that last made an appearance in this even teenier version, and it’s bedecked with bubbly-infused festivities in honor of New Year’s — a crisp cranberry-champagne jam and a lightly tart champagne buttercream. (Plus edible sparkles. Of course.)

One of my dearest friends and future bridesmaids (!) had her birthday over Thanksgiving a few weeks ago. As hallmates in law school, we bonded over a mutual love for Waffle House and thick-skinned potstickers. Instead of heated civil rights debates, we discussed the finer points of chicken versus pork ramen broths. (Best law students ever.) Then we both came to New York for work! We ended up just one serendipitous floor apart in the same building. She was one of the first “real life” people I ever told about this little space of mine, and somehow she never gets tired of discussing what I should make next or when I should post what. (Our work situation also means she’s usually the one who gets leftovers from blog shoots on Mondays — I hand them off to her in our shared elevator bank like hot potatoes or illicit contraband and then we run into our separate elevators like be cool, man, be cool!)

Happy Friday! Just popping in to wish you guys a happy weekend and to share these teeny apple crumbles, up on Verily Magazine today. These little guys were one of the first mini-fied “for two” recipes I made for this blog, and they’re still one of my all-time favorites. They’re unbelievably easy to make (seriously, you probably don’t need a recipe) and they have all the pairings I love in a little 4-ounce package: crisp textures on top matched with soft and comforting underneath, sweet notes with savory ones, warm gooey fall-spiced filling with cold ice cream. I’m especially in love with the cheddar in the crumble topping — it might be off-putting to some, but I promise it’s so delightful. Far from being jarring, the cheddar melts into a subtle nutty, savory note that’s barely but happily noticeable, and adds a little chewy resiliency to the crust that I adore. You can find the full recipe here. I hope you all have fantastic weekends!

It’s another baby-cake! Last week, I wrote a little bit about my wedding cake fantasies and how I spent a weekend baking the mini versions of the cakes I’d like to bake if I made my own cake. One was a tiny hummingbird cake, and the other is this one. It’s one of my favorite cakes ever, and one that I really meant to share a lot sooner. It started all the way in September of last year, when I caught a glimpse of this gorgeous cake by MBakes and was so instantly smitten that I spent the next week holed up in the kitchen recreating a mini version. It was one of my first real attempts at mini-fying cakes — and I think it involved enough dense, fallen, gummy mini failures to make up a full-sized cake — but the result was a recipe that I’ve used as a guide to a ton of other mini cakes since then. It was the basis for last week’s hummingbird cake, plus this carrot cake I shared back in February, and like I mentioned then, it’s become my go-to for birthdays, going-away parties, random face-stuffing extravaganzas, you name it.

So after talking about it (throwback alert!) and talking about it and talking about it some more, here’s the little mini-zucchini (doesn’t that seem like it should rhyme?) cake that gave way to all the others! The cake has all the moist decadence I love from zucchini bread, but with a lighter, more delicate crumb, and the frosting is (in my humble opinion) incredible. The lime juice is the perfect lively balance to the cream cheese, and the basil was a recent addition that I’m equally crazy about. It might have been a little odd as a real wedding cake layer, but in my hypothetical wedding world, I love it.

I hope you’re all having fantastic Wednesdays! And such a huge hug and thank-you to everyone who commented on the hummingbird cake and shared your thoughts and experiences with me! I love hearing about weddings of all kinds, so it was super fun — and the advice is much appreciated. As far as blog-weddings go, you’re all totally invited and welcome to unlimited imaginary slices of an impeccably frosted, towering three-tiered wedding cake with a green tea layer, a hummingbird layer, and a zucchini layer. And all kinds of frostings. (In the blog-world, none of it clashes.)

As it turns out, I’m not the most decisive person in the world. (Bowl #2, who is now diametrically opposed to the phrase “It’s up to you,” is probably laughing right now.) I like things, and I like some things more than other things, but when it comes to actually making a decision — especially a decision for something like a wedding! — sometimes all I can think about is whether the other thing might be better. OK, let’s do a DJ during the ceremony. (But what about live music?) Sure, let’s do a fish option. (But what about chicken?!) Yeah, you’re right, it’d be crazy for me to make my own cake. (But … cake!) I’ve treated everyone I’ve worked with so far to a symphony of really long, really drawn-out “umm”s, which I’m guessing is super enjoyable for all involved.

Happily, we’ve now finalized a lot of our decisions — and signed the contracts, when is when I finally stop thinking about the what-about‘s. But we haven’t decided on cake yet! So far, I’ve impulsively declared about four times that I’m just going to make it, and then about four more times realized I have no idea where I would freeze the layers or where I would store the finished cake or how I would transport it or … how to make a tiered cake to begin with. So as much as I fear the what-about of cold, dry wedding cake with chalky buttercream and styrofoam insides, I’ve shelved that idea for now. (There are a lot of deep messages in there about how it’s not the details that are important on the big day, or how it’s healthy to learn to relinquish control over the things that don’t matter, which are all totally true — but it’s mostly that I was stumped when it came to finding freezer space.)

To assuage my cake-making urges, the other weekend I spent a few quiet hours making the cakes I think I would have liked to make if I actually did it. (You know, except for two people, instead of a hundred.) They were the moistest cakes I knew how to make, obviously — one was a zucchini cake that is one of my all-time favorites, which I’m excited to share soon, and the other is this hummingbird cake. There are so many things I love about this teeny cake. It’s quaintly symbolic, given that it’s a quintessentially Southern cake, sweet and decadent and emblematic of where I grew up, but it’s also packed with all the tropical things that remind me of Bowl #2’s home in Hawaii. (If only I’d added some haupia!) The toasted coconut on top is unreal (how did I never toast coconut before this?), and the mashed banana and crushed pineapple make it so moist that it drives away any thoughts of frozen, crumbly-dry wedding cake. For now, that’s good enough for me!

Have you ever made a wedding cake or considered making your own? I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences if you have! (Also, if you’re mulling it over too, check out this uncannily well-timed series Food52 is doing. So excited for this. F52, I love you all beyond words!)

Hihi friends! How was your weekend? Ours was a mix of a little work, a lot of nailbiting to this movie, some early prep for the Mid-Autumn Festival, and copious amounts of iced yuanyang via Season with Spice’s fantastic mix (so good!). Between my early mooncake-making and the ridiculously cool weather we’re still enjoying in New York, I feel like I’m getting confused with the seasons. Is it still spring? Wait, is it already fall? In an effort to get in the swing of summer things while it’s still around, I made these raspberry tarts — and they’re up today in a little guest post on one of my favorite, favorite blogs, Adventures in Cooking!

If you’re not familiar with Eva’s blog, stop reading and go right now. Eva has such an artistic eye and an endless imagination for exciting flavor pairings, not to mention a gift for baking some of the mostbeautifulcakes I’ve ever seen. Her gorgeous work has been a wellspring of inspiration since the beginning of this little blog, so to say that I’m honored to contribute something is an understatement. I’m kind of still pinching myself.

When Eva asked me if I’d consider doing a guest post while her kitchen was under renovation, I tried to come up with something that would pay adequate homage to the lovely and wonderfully original creations she comes up with. I’ve heard for awhile how well cardamom goes with berries (just look at these beauties here and here) so given my recent appreciation for it (and wealth of pods in my cupboard), I thought I’d give the raspberry jam in these tarts a little twist. To me the best kinds of flavor pairings are the ones that don’t taste like x-and-y together, but become a whole new taste of their own, and I think cardamom does exactly that to raspberry — the result isn’t a duet of flavors, but a deeper, richer raspberry jam that evolves as you taste it. I loved it. Hop over to Eva’s blog for the recipe, and have a lovely Monday!

Summer has arrived! After the obstinate winter and temperamental spring we’ve had this year, I was convinced that New York was going to throw down the humid-est of humid New York summers on us, just to be the cruelest mistress it could possibly be. But instead, the universe has reminded me Cynthia, be a smidge more optimistic — and this summer has been nothing short of spectacular (so far). With the exception of a few rainy days earlier this month, June has been just an abundance of breezy, cool mornings, warm summer nights, and gentle sunshine.

On the table, there’s been tart raspberries and ripe figs, icy-cold affogatos and our first homemade corn on the cob. Off the table, we’ve had lazy afternoon strolls, evenings with cool air wafting in through open windows. A balmy, sun-soaked picnic in Prospect Park, where I met the most incredibly lovely people, gave my shoulders a good toasting, and my heart to this little guy. The days are gloriously long, the kind where you get home after a long productive trek and find that it’s only 3 PM, the sunlight is streaming through the windows, and you still have practically an entire day laid out before you — one of my favorite feelings.

So last week, I rhapsodized about my newest-found obsession, brioche. (And not just that, but no-knead brioche!) I’ve been wondering why it took me so long to discover this gem of a bread. I don’t really know, but my guess is — maybe because most of the photos I’d seen before were of sliced brioche, or maybe because the ones I’d tried hadn’t been fresh, I thought of it as a very different texture than it really is. For some reason, I imagined it as unappealingly rigid, dry, maybe a little crumbly. (Which it can be, but only if it’s tired and stale. In which case it’s time to make French toast!)

So woefully misled. Thankfully, I now know the shiny, buttery truth — the truth that is soft, wispy cotton-candy tufts of melt-in-your-mouth bread, the kind of bread that makes you hook your index finger rudely into its belly and yank its cloud-like innards from inside its well-shined golden-brown walls. And add garlic butter, herbs, and melty cheese into that belly? Oh man. Just so good. Goodbye, bread etiquette, hello, hollow brioche shells.

Here’s part two of my Brioche Kick — instead of twisting it up with red bean, I made this one savory, with a dose of smoked gouda, some chopped chives, more butter and a touch of garlic. (If I were hip and with it, I would have hunted down some ramps for this baby, but alas.) Bowl #2 thought it was way better than the red bean, and I kind of had to agree. While that one was fun and a bit off the beaten path, this was just spectacular — full of flavor and colorfully rich, yet not overwhelming. The kind of bread that is its own meal. (And did I mention that this recipe is, again, no-knead?) Enjoy!